Monday, April 20, 2026

A Judgement of Powers

Title:
A Judgement of Powers
Author: Benedict Jacka
Published: November 4, 2025, by Ace
Format: Paperback, 352 Pages
Genre: Fantasy
Series: Inheritance of Magic #3

Blurb: Stephen Oakwood’s ambitions used to be simple. Pay his bills, track down his father, and take care of his cat. Maybe study a little magic after work, if he had time.

Now it’s a year later and he’s got everything he wanted. But it’s come with a price.

The Winged, a mysterious group involved with his father, have noticed Stephen, and they want him to join them or else. His career as a corporate locator has hit a dead end. And his new job as bodyguard to Calhoun Ashford is proving a lot more lethal than expected due to assassination attempts from outside the House, and possibly also from within.

To survive, Stephen’s going to need allies of his own. And along the way, he’s going to have to figure out the secret of his own gift, and what it means. The cults, Houses, and corporations of the magical world are locked in an endless battle for dominance, and Stephen is beginning to realize that he’s going to have to pick a side . . . before someone else picks it for him.

My Opinion: I went into this novel with a very specific kind of caution—the kind you develop when a series you want to love wobbles on its second outing. I adored An Inheritance of Magic. The follow up, An Instruction in Shadow, left me lukewarm at best. So, this third book? This was the make or break moment, especially knowing Jacka is aiming for 12–14 books. That’s a long road to commit to if the spark isn’t there.

Thankfully, Jacka comes roaring back with the confidence and clarity of his earlier work. From page one, he had me. No wasted space. He even manages a tidy recap, but it is not a substitute for reading the series in order.

Stephen Oakwood and his realizations continue to be the most compelling parts of this world. He’s always reminded me of Din Kol from Robert Jackson Bennett’s Shadow of the Leviathan series. Both 20-ish-year-old men are sharp, stubborn, a little battered, and endlessly compelling. If Din is your kind of protagonist, you’ll feel right at home here. The mystery, the magic, the banter, the characters, and their backstories are all here.

Now, Jacka still indulges in a habit of pausing to walk readers through the Houses, their leaders, their histories, and their specialties. For me, those sections always lag a bit. I’m not going to remember the finer points until they matter, and that’s fine. My brain files them under “retrieve later” and moves on. When they become plot critical, the details will snap into place.

There was one moment early on—a paragraph that seemed to be setting up something important—that never resurfaced. I kept waiting for it, convinced it was a breadcrumb for a later reveal. But it simply… vanished. Maybe it’s something Jacka cut or postponed for a future book. Maybe it’s a seed that hasn’t sprouted yet. Either way, it hovered in the back of my mind the entire time.

Oh, the ending. This is where Jacka reminds you exactly why you signed up for this series in the first place. A battle. A reckoning. A shift in purpose. Stephen finally steps into the direction he’s been circling since book one, and it feels honest. It feels right. It feels like the true beginning of the long game Jacka has been planning.

Let the games begin, indeed.

Thursday, April 16, 2026

Life: A Love Story

Title: Life: A Love Story
Author: Elizabeth Berg
Published: March 17, 2026 by Random House
Format: Kindle, 208 Pages
Genre: Women's Fiction

Blurb: Florence “Flo” Greene is nearing the end of her life, and she decides to leave her house and an account of her life for Ruthie, the younger woman who grew up next door, moved away, and still is like a surrogate daughter. As Flo writes to Ruthie about the meaning of beloved things in her home and about events in her past, she also tries new adventures of her own. She intervenes in the lives of friends in her neighborhood.

Flo's project has been to encourage Teresa, a wise but unconfident woman, to open her heart to romance. Flo goes to the library to get advice from Mimi, a librarian. She encourages Ruthie, who is contemplating divorce, to try again with her husband, by sharing a startling secret long buried about Flo’s own seemingly perfect husband and marriage.

In her final weeks, Flo leaves an indelible mark on others, as this moving novel celebrates life, change, and ways to discover new happiness, friendship, and love.

My Opinion: I first discovered Elizabeth Berg through her Arthur Truluv novels, and I still think about Arthur, Maddy, and Lucille as if they were old friends I occasionally catch sight of. Not every book can recreate that particular magic, but I opened this novel hoping for that same quiet, heart-forward resonance.

This novel unfolds through correspondence and small side stories, a structure that feels both intimate and slightly old-fashioned in the best way. I understand why some readers compare it to ‘The Correspondent’ by Virginia Evans, though for me, it would be hard to match the presence of Sybil Van Antwerp. Then add in shades of ‘The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning’, you start to see what Berg is weaving together: reflections on faith, the wisdom that comes with age, the tenderness of found family, and the complicated grace of preparing for the end of life.

It’s a quick read, but not a light one. It will land differently depending on where you are in your own journey. Flo’s words—sometimes funny, sometimes piercing, sometimes so simple they sneak up on you—have a way of lodging themselves in your mind. Days later, one of her life lessons might bubble up unexpectedly, and you’ll pause, trying to remember where you heard it, before giving a small smile when you realize it was Flo whispering back to you.

And yes, there’s laughter. Berg always gives us that. But she also gives us the tears, the kind that come from recognizing something true about love, loss, or the strange, beautiful mess of being human.

Life: A Love Story may not be another Arthur Truluv, but it carries its own quiet, gentle, wise, and full-of-heart power.

Monday, April 13, 2026

Book of Forbidden Words

Title: Book of Forbidden Words
Author: Louise Fein
Published: February 17, 2026 by William Morrow Paperbacks
Format: Paperback, 384 Pages
Genre: Historical Fiction

Blurb: 1552, The print­ing press is quickly spreading new ideas across Europe, threatening the power of church and state and unleashing a wave of book burning and heretic hunting. When frightened ex-nun Lysbette Angiers arrives at Charlotte Guillard’s famous printing shop with her manuscript, neither woman knows just how far the powerful elite will go to prevent the spread of Lysbette’s audacious ideas. 1952, NEW Milly Bennett is a lonely housewife struggling to find her way in her new neighborhood amidst the paranoid clamors of McCarthy’s America. She finds her life taking an unexpected turn when a relic from her past presents her with a 400-year-old manuscript to decipher, pulling her into a vortex of danger that threatens to shatter her world.

From the risky backstreets of sixteenth-century Paris to the unpredictable suburbs of mid-twentieth century New York, the stakes couldn’t be higher when, 400 years apart, Milly, Lysbette, and Charlotte each face a reality where the spread of ideas are feared and every effort is made to suppress them.

Dramatic and affecting, and inspired by the real-life encrypted Voynich manuscript, Book of Forbidden Words is both an engrossing story about a timeless struggle that echoes through the ages and a testament to the indomitable spirit of those who dare to let their words be heard.

My Opinion: This novel is built on the idea that the suppression of knowledge is never a relic of the past; it simply changes form. This is the second novel of hers I’ve read, and once again I was drawn in from the opening chapters. The story moves between 1552 Paris and 1952 Levittown, NY, told through three distinct perspectives: Milly Bennett, with her secret Bletchley Park background; Lysbette, an ex-nun who was raised in the household of Sir Thomas More; and Charlotte Guillard, an historical printer navigating a man’s world. And you know a reader is going to be locked in when a novel opens in a world of banned books, heretic hunters, and the fear of new ideas. Fein uses these dual timelines not as a structural trick, but as a way to show how quickly moral panic takes root, and how easily societies convince themselves that censorship is a form of safety.

What gives the novel its texture is the interplay between these women and the eras they inhabit. Milly’s wry reference to the PTA women as “the coven” sets the tone for her humor and exasperation, while Lysbette and Charlotte carry the weight of earlier battles over who gets to print, read, or even think freely. Fein grounds their stories in the history of sixteenth century book burnings, McCarthy era paranoia, the coded manuscript echoing the Voynich mystery, and the rigid conformity of postwar suburbia. My interest in the novel rose and dipped in waves, but by the end, I found myself appreciating both the women at its center and the meticulous research Fein brings to their worlds.

Fein brings these threads together with historical detail supporting the story rather than overwhelming it. While my attention shifted throughout, I ultimately respected the scope of what she set out to do and the women she chose, each navigating a world determined to limit what they can know, say, or preserve. By the final chapters, the novel became less about a single mysterious manuscript and more about the enduring struggle against censorship in all its forms. It’s a thoughtful, well researched work, and I’m glad to have spent time with the women whose stories Fein brought forward.

Thursday, April 9, 2026

The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances

Title: The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances
Author: Glenn Dixon
Published: April 7, 2026 by Atria Books
Format: Kindle, 240 pages
Genre: Dystopian

Blurb: In a self-running, smart house, a young and sentient Roomba listens as her owner, Harold, reads aloud to his dying wife, Edie. Mesmerized by To Kill a Mockingbird and craving the human connection she witnesses in Harold’s stories, the little vacuum renames herself Scout and embarks on a journey of self-discovery.

But when Edie passes away, Scout and her fellow sentient appliances discover that there are sinister forces in their midst. The omnipresent Grid, which monitors every household in the City, seeks to remove Harold from his home, a place he’s lived in for fifty years.

With the help of Adrian, a neighborhood boy who grows close to Scout and Harold, as well as Kate, Harold and Edie’s formerly estranged daughter, the humans and the appliances must come together to outwit the all-controlling Grid lest they risk losing everything they hold dear.

My Opinion: This book completely caught me off guard. Yes, it’s written for adults, but my brain kept slipping into a kind of sad, dystopic Pixar mode—Man vs. Machine, but with heart, humor, and a surprising amount of soul. It’s a story about future spirals and fragile hope, and how something small and unexpected can save the humans they love.

Scout, the Roomba at the center of it all, is impossibly sweet and innocent in a way that makes you ache for her as she tries to make sense of the sudden sadness in her home. She’s a mechanical child, really, and somehow, she becomes the one who leads everyone else forward. You can’t help but root for her.

This is one of those books that’s nearly impossible to describe without sounding a little unhinged. You start to say, “Well, it’s about a man and his sentient appliances and how they confront the grid…oh, and there is a little boy trying to pass his piano finals,” and people blink at you like you’ve gone a bit too far. But once you’re inside the story, it makes perfect emotional sense. It’s full of heart, full of feeling, and yes, there may be a tear or two along the way.

You’ll never look at your smart appliances the same way again.

What surprised me most was how gently the novel braids together aging, grief, belonging, and the question of what it means to be conscious in a world run by impersonal systems. Through the companionship between a lonely man and the appliances that care for him, the book suggests that empathy, wherever it sparks, is the best form of resistance.

And just when you think you’ve figured out how their problems will be solved, Scout nudges you in a different direction. It wasn’t the ending I expected, but it was the one she knew how to reach. In her own quiet way, she earns her happily ever after: the ability to feel beauty, calm, and that tiny trick of the spirit we call joy.

This novel is strange, tender, and hopeful, and I loved the full experience.